Flügel des Arztes
by EnderGirl
Summary: We're all familiar with the strict, clean-cut doctor...but does anyone really know him? Where does he come from? What hardships has he faced in life? What made him the way he is? I present to you a glimpse into our beloved physician's past.
1. Josef

**Welp. Here we are. Hello everyone. *sigh* I'm ready to release my multi-chaptered work to the public. **

**IT WOULDN'T BE A GOOD FIC WITHOUT DISCLAIMERS, AMMIRITE?**

**If you were expecting something like The Mercs Take New York, then you should proooobably click off of this. Actually please don't; please love me. Since that story was so well received, I decided to take a plunge in the complete opposite direction and write something serious and dark just to expand my horizons, yo. **

**I've done more studying and research for this fic more than anything in my life. I've tried to keep this as close to history as possible, but if anything is off I'm whipping out my creative license. **

**The silly mercs we all know and love ARE IN THIS, trust me. You'll just have to stick this out to the end to see them. ;)**

**I realize the ages of a couple of characters are not realistic with game cannon but *whips out creative license* deal with it. **

**I've rambled way too long. Here you all go~**

*****PROLOUGE** ***

"We have become orphans and fatherless, our mothers like widows" -Lamentations 5:3

"Your circle of influence dictates your path." - Jon Bielecki

It was raining.

Small, stinging drops drenched the mass of people below.

A mother tightened her grip against her son's small wrist and he nearly cried out in pain as her nails dug even deeper. They had been walking for what seemed like hours, but it could have been days or even minutes. Hundreds of mothers holding children just marched, slipping in the thick gray mud that covered the ground. They slowed to a halt as a line began forming. The little boy strained forward to see what was happening. Several guards stood around with guns strapped to their belts, separating the children from their mothers. The little boy felt panic flaring in his chest. His mother had told him what was going to happen, but he wasn't fully prepared for this moment. Nobody could have been fully prepared for this moment.

They were nearly to the gates.

The mother suddenly stopped and knelt down until she was face to face with her son. She swallowed, her eyes misting over. Anyone on the outside could have guessed they were closely related. Even at the young age of twelve, the boy had inherited his mother's long, solemn face and steel gray eyes. She stared deeply into his, silver reflected against silver. She straightened his tie and his glasses then pulled him into a hug.

"I love you, Josef," were the last words she said to him before he was pulled away by a guard three times his size and sent to stand with the other children.

Stuttgart, Germany: 1914

"Up! Time to get up!" A voice barked at young Josef and he was jolted awake, rubbing his tired eyes as he felt the memories from the day before rush into his mind. His mother's unwavering face as she left him at the train station, his new life in the orphanage even though he wasn't an orphan. The families of Stuttgart had fallen on extremely difficult times, and all of the lower class citizens had sent their children away in hopes of them leading a better life. It was his first official day here, and he was exhausted. Trudging three miles through thick gray mud up to the huge, cold building was how he spent most of his day yesterday, then he was kept awake all night by the cries of the younger children in bunks around him. Josef groped for his glasses and just laid, staring at the grimy ceiling for a moment longer.

"You better get up, friend, we have a tight schedule around here," a boy much younger than Josef popped his head up from the bottom bunk and Josef sighed, swinging his legs around the precarious bed. They were allowed ten minutes to do all of their morning duties, which included dressing, freshening up, using the toilet, and whatever else they had to do in the morning. Josef moved slowly compared to the other boys who were systematically buttoning their shirts and straightening their collars. They all wore a uniform, but the clothes hung very loose on Josef's tiny frame. A simple, white, button up shirt with gray slacks and black penny loafers was their daily attire, but Josef also found a raggedy three piece suit which he only guessed was for Sundays, when they had chapel.

Josef shuffled his way into the bathroom where he brushed his teeth and examined himself in the mirror. He was a ghostly figure at the young age of twelve. Nearly skeletal, with hollowed cheeks and steel gray eyes. His small round spectacles curved around the bridge of his nose which seemed too big for his face, and his mouth settled into a perpetual disapproving frown. He wetted his hands in the sink and combed through his thick black hair, parting it deeply on the side and twirling the end into a cowlick, like his mother had always done on Sundays.

He followed the line of boys into the main assembly room and filed like a colony of ants into one of the endless rows of pews. Josef was smaller than all of the other boys, so he was crammed into the end of the pew, hardly able to breath. They turned their attention to the man in charge.

"I know most of you have had a rather eventful day yesterday, but that is all in the past now. We have a very strict schedule around here which I'm going to go over. We are not slackers. You will wake up every day at seven and perform your morning tasks. Then, you will be sent to class. The head of your room will provide you with schedules. After we break for lunch you will be sent to work. We are not slackers here. Work will be divided into several jobs according to the capability and circumstances of you children. After work you will have two hours for respite then we will break for dinner. Lights off is at nine for the younger children and ten for the older children. Please file into lines according to age and your work will be assigned to you. You are dismissed." The man in charge waved his hand away and the adults at the ends of pews stood and motioned for their group to follow. Josef tried to push his way through the surging crowd but he was lost underfoot, his cries pathetic against the din of the mass of children.

Suddenly Josef felt cold fingers tighten around his wrist and he gasped as he was pulled roughly out of the crowd. He was jerked so swiftly and suddenly he fell to his knees, scrambling upward, trying to twist away from his captor.

"Stop writhing, boy!" a gruff voice sneered in his ear. Josef looked upward, feeling his eyes wet with tears. "Just let me look at these," the man loosened his grip slightly and knelt down, pressing his thumb at the base of Josef's hand, forcing his fingers to spread out. The man mumbled words like "…perfect…" and "…flexible…" Josef was terrified.

The man was very old and very thin, so thin that if he turned sideways he might blend in with the wallpaper. He was completely bald, but had an untrimmed beard surrounding his cracked lips which were pulled back in a strange smile. He wore a white coat, pressed to perfection, that looked like it was the smallest size they could make but it was still loose on his shoulders, a black belt cinched around his tiny waist.

"Do you know what these are?" the man suddenly asked, still holding Josef's hands in his own. The old man's hands felt cold and hard like he was dead, but the fingers twitched and spasmed slightly, as if he was itching to do something with them.

"Um…my hands?" Josef wrinkled his nose in confusion. He felt like he had given a wrong answer but what else could he have said?

"Yes! Precisely!" the old man nodded enthusiastically and suddenly Josef felt even more uncomfortable, vainly attempting to squirm away from him again but this just caused the old man to pull him closer. By now most of the children had exited the huge auditorium, laughing and fighting with each other, folding their schedules into paper airplanes and play-batons, whacking each other with them. None of them had seemed concerned that an old man was kneeling down in front of a little boy, holding his wrists so tightly his fingers were turning blue.

"I…I want to go back to my room," Josef whimpered, his hands tingling.

"Others might look at your hands and think: _Pianist. _Others might shake their heads sadly and think: _Pickpocket._ Do you know what I see? These long, pale fingers, so steady at such a young age, so deliberate in every motion, delicate even. I see a surgeon." The man grinned as if he'd just said something funny but Josef wrinkled his brows in confusion.

"A...surgeon? Like, cutting people open?" he felt bile rise in his throat at the mere thought of seeing someone's innards. Those things were supposed to be inside your body, and as long as they were functioning Josef didn't really care how they did it.

"Yes! A surgeon! A doctor, a caretaker, a practitioner…a prodigy." The man looked crazier than before, his watery eyes so wide Josef could see the whites around them.

"Who are you?" Josef asked timidly.

"My name is Doctor Austerlitz, and I run the nurses' station here at the orphanage. You are Josef Schmerz, brought here not by a couple of tragic deaths but by poverty. You're going to come work with me exclusively, and I'm going to teach you everything I know."

**Coming up:** "All of you, quiet. We all get nightmares here." The boys quieted down and Josef felt his face flush with embarrassment.


	2. Klaus

**Wow. **

**You guys...your support NEVER ceases to amaze me. Here's an update rather soon, just for you all. I'm not particularly fond of this chapter because of its length. I tried to make it longer but whatever I added felt out of place. Apologies. .**

**Please enjoy and thank you again for your support. I nearly cried at the outpouring of love...I'm a rather sappy person if you couldn't tell. *sigh* **

Josef followed the doctor through the empty halls, nearly having to jog to keep up with him. The doctor's legs were impossibly long and poor little Josef was panting by the time they got to his office. He unlocked the door to the infirmary and ushered Josef inside silently. The only word that could be used to describe the place was: _clean. _There was not a single speck of dust or dirt anywhere in the room. It was cold, calculating, and unwelcoming. A desk was shoved into one corner of the wall with a perfectly straight stack of papers on one side and an upright pencil holder neatly lined up on the other side. Josef's eyes roamed over to a small metal table on the far end and what looked like a chemical shower near it. A very deep sink was mounted to the wall and Josef could just barely see various tools glinting cruelly from its depths.

"Do you, ah, operate on people here? Why don't we take them to the hospital?" Josef asked, reaching out to run his hand over the surface of the operating table. He gasped slightly when the cold metal shocked him, a tiny spark of static electricity shooting through his fingers. He drew his hand back against his frail chest, more surprised than hurt. Doctor Austerlitz looked up sharply, his eyes focusing on the small boy as if he'd just realized he wasn't alone.

"We're too far away from a hospital," the doctor said with no emotion and went back to digging furiously in his desk drawers. Josef rocked back and forth on his heels, all conversation dying on his tongue. Even though the place was sickeningly sterile, it felt right for some reason, and Josef felt the tiniest twinge in his stomach that he couldn't quite explain.

"Where are your other assistants, Doctor?" Josef inquired, trying desperately to break the silence. The man looked up, annoyed he was being disturbed again.

"Call me Klaus. Formalities will only wear thin after a while. It's best to get them out of the way." For the first time the Klaus seemed to smile at him and it didn't look deranged. Josef returned the smile, if a bit sheepishly. "And you're it. There are no other helpers." He must have found the paper he was looking for because he made a shrill noise and held it to his chest like it was a newborn baby.

"I'm…I'm the only worker?" Josef's voice sounded small in the oppressive white walls of the infirmary. He suddenly had a wave of homesickness hit him and he wanted his mother. He wanted to feel her arms around him, wanted to feel her kiss him goodnight and tell him that everything was going to be okay. His eyes suddenly became hot and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He would never see his mother again.

He was alone.

Alone in this godforsaken orphanage with nobody but a creepy old doctor for a friend.

He didn't realize he was crying until he felt the wetness cascade down his face and he quickly wiped his pale cheeks, looking nervously to make sure the doctor didn't see him crying.

He had.

The doctor rigidly strode over to Josef and stood in front of him. Despite everything, Josef was taking note of how the doctor stood. His back was ramrod straight, his thin chest puffed out slightly with his hands held behind his back. He looked powerful. Josef subconsciously found himself standing just the slightest bit taller as the doctor looked down on him.

"You'll get used to it. The loneliness will pass." Was all he said before offering Josef a handkerchief. "Before long you won't be able to feel anything." Klaus walked swiftly back to his papers and began scribbling something on them, leaving twelve year old Josef with a horrified expression on his face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Josef's fingers were raw.

Thankfully the school schedule didn't start until tomorrow. Hopefully his hands would stop shaking long enough to be able to hold a pencil. Klaus had made him wash all of the surgical tools in water so hot that Josef cried the entire time. His delicate hands were red and stripped of patches of skin, and it was all he could do to hold his tray of food in his hands as he broke away from the lunch line.

It was bland, the smells unappetizing, but Josef was so hungry he could've eaten the bottom of his shoe and not complained. It was some form of soup, milky with bits of what could have been beans floating in it. A hard end of bread accompanied it. The cafeteria offered powdered milk as a beverage, but Josef had opted for a glass of filmy water instead.

The cafeteria was noisy as children laughed and yelled and threw bits of food at each other. Josef scanned the tables. It was all of the older children, from ten years old up to eighteen, though there were few teenagers. Everyone seemed to have made friends already from their work and they sat together in clusters. There was one table at the farthest end of the cafeteria that was empty except for one boy.

He was at least twice Josef's height and weight with light brown hair buzzed as short as it would go. Reluctantly, Josef walked over to the table and sat as far away from the boy as he could, only making brief, awkward eye contact. In this moment the boy smiled at him, making an effort to be friendly but Josef didn't smile back. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

He nearly dropped the crusty piece of bread he had brought to his lips. Hours ago he was crying because he was alone and now he _wanted_ to be alone.

Klaus was right.

That didn't take long at all.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Josef undressed in the moonlight streaming in through window. The other boys around him were sluggish as well, bumping into each other and murmuring half-hearted apologies and they put their things away and changed into more comfortable clothes. Josef had even opted out of a shower that night in favor of sleep, and the fact that they had no privacy in the bathroom; it was completely open. He climbed the rickety ladder to his bed, slipping off of one rung momentarily before collapsing onto the less than comfortable mattress.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Red.

All he saw was red.

It coated his vision and made his insides boil with an emotion he had never felt before.

It was somewhere in the middle of hatred, elation, and confusion.

His vision was blurred and distorted, but he thought he could make out the sound of someone laughing. They laughed…and laughed…laughed until Josef wanted to cover his ears. It was cruel laughter, high pitched and maniacal. His vision cleared for a fraction of a second and all he saw was a gleam of lenses, a poetic grin, and the fading image of white feathers.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Josef bolted upright, feeling a scream dying in his chest. He whipped his head around wildly and grasped his blankets. His heart hurt. It hurt so badly Josef felt weak, like he was dying. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and feeling it slamming against his thin chest. Annoyed grumblings and the rustling waking children surrounded him before someone said:

"All of you, quiet. We all get nightmares here." The boys quieted down and Josef felt his face flush with embarrassment. His scream had woken the entire room. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and shakily laid back down, a wave of exhaustion taking him under. As he felt his eyes closing, the emotion in his dream suddenly had a name.

Insanity.

**Coming up:** "It's that easy to kill someone?" Josef suddenly asked, expelling the air by pressing the plunger on the syringe so hard he thought it might break it.


	3. Misha

**This...this story is just...I'm kinda of really proud of it, guys. This chapter is dedicated to pooptowel for having such an amazing name. Anyway, here's another chapter for you guys, I'm so excited to see your reactions...**

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Josef felt his head bobbing and his eyelids drooping. He had always liked to learn, but the history teacher whose name he hadn't bothered to learn had the most monotone voice he had ever heard in his life. Thankfully this was his second to last class of the day before he went to work with Klaus.

The teacher finally closed his book and muttered something about class being over. Josef took this opportunity to stretch out his sleepy muscles and his jaws gaped in a massive yawn. Shaking his head, he flexed his fingers before curling them around his pencil again, getting a fresh piece of paper out as his English teacher entered.

English was Josef's favorite class. He was always sitting on the edge of his seat, contorting his lips and tongue to fit the soft language, forming words with the teacher. The English language was extraordinary. While everyone else complained about the class switch, Josef was elated. He sat with his thick brows furrowed in concentration, scribbling down English nouns and their German equivalent. He wished the small school portion offered more languages, but English was the most practical so that's what everyone was taught. He would love to study Spanish, feeling the melodic words lilting through his voice, or French, the slurred consonants that could only be pronounced with one sultry eyebrow raised. What Josef really longed to learn was Russian, one of the few languages even more guttural than his own.

The English teacher was an older woman that Josef thought could have been pretty when she was young. Her name was Frau Gottlieb, and Josef absolutely adored her. She was plump and short, with graying blonde hair and green eyes that almost disappeared when she smiled. She spoke English as well as she did German, and knew conversational French which Josef was itching to ask her to teach it to him.

When she entered she greeted the class in English, saying "Good afternoon." Josef replied in English, enjoying the way his throat closed around the hard "r" sound and the soft vowels. While she began getting things ready for class, an adult entered the classroom and walked to a student's desk. Josef was busy writing "Good afternoon" all over his notebook but his curiosity got the better of him and he watched the man kneel down beside a boy. Josef blinked. It was the same boy that sat alone at the empty lunch table. The man said something low to the boy that Josef couldn't make out but the boy nodded thankfully and began gathering his books. He stood out of his desk which was slightly too small for him and followed the man out of the classroom. He met Josef's narrowed eyes briefly as he left but Josef hardly registered it.

Strange. Did he not have to take the English class? Josef ground his teeth together and gripped his pencil tightly. Maybe he would try and talk to the boy at lunch.

Maybe.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Josef, please." Klaus said, exasperated.

"No…please don't make me," Josef whimpered, gripping the syringe tightly. Klaus's face hardened. He was tired of this little game they were playing. With lightning speed he shot forward and grabbed Josef by his shirt collar and drew him close, his breath hot on his face.

"You listen to me, boy. You're not like the other children. You will never be like them. No matter how much you want to be like them you will always be an outcast. Your eyes betray your emotions." Josef squeaked in terror as Klaus's grip tightened on his arm. "Now, I'm going to walk you through this. Just listen to the sound of my voice." Klaus loosened his grip on Josef and handed him a small rubber tube. "This is to make a tourniquet. Do you see this vein?" Klaus pointed to a blue streak that was clearly visible through his papery skin.

"Y-Yes," Josef said, trying to steady his shaking voice.

"A tourniquet is a device that is designed to cut off the flow of blood from a certain artery or vein. You would properly use a tourniquet if someone was bleeding out from a major area or if you needed to make an incision without all the mess. Right now, however, we're just drawing blood so we don't need to make it that tight. Just tight enough to make the vein pop out." Klaus took Josef's spindly hands in his own and showed him how to tie it and they waited for a few moments until Klaus' vein began to throb harder, causing it to rise slightly under his skin. "Now, make sure there is no air in the needle whatsoever. If there is, you would kill me instantly."

"It's that easy to kill someone?" Josef suddenly asked, expelling the air by pressing the plunger on the syringe so hard he thought it might break it. He shuddered as an image of the doctor slumped over in the chair with his eyes glazed over and the syringe buried in his arm flashed in his mind.

"There are easier ways. Now, you just slide the needle in my arm and slowly draw out enough blood to fill the syringe." He said calmly, his irritation from before replaced by rare tenderness. Josef thought he liked him better irritated.

_It's now or never. _

Josef sucked in a breath and brought the needle to Klaus' arm and pressed it against his skin until it slid underneath it, right into the vein. Josef steadily pulled out the plunger and watched as the thick red substance filled the syringe. It was fascinating. When he was done he pulled it out probably quicker than he should have and wrapped his fingers around the body of the needle.

The blood was so hot.

The felt it warm his fingers, a thick bubble rising to the top.

It was the same color red from his frequent nightmares and Josef suddenly became very cold and almost threw the syringe down on the operating table. He took a step back from it, his eyes wide with terror.

"Josef? Josef, it's okay, you didn't hurt me," Klaus tried to console him but Josef drew into himself.

"_Don't touch me_," he hissed, wrapping his thin arms around his chest. "P-please don't ever make me do that again," he stuttered. Klaus stood, his arm oozing a small stream of blood.

He knelt down in front of Josef and gripped the boy by the shoulders.

"You don't have a choice," he said almost sadly, before tugging on Josef's shirt, making it straight. He fiddled with the boy's sleeves and flicked his hair to the side until he was perfectly aligned. Then he stood and walked out, muttering for Josef to take the rest of the day off.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Josef pulled his towel tighter around his bony waist as he took a deep breath before entering the washroom. He sighed internally. There were two older boys in the showers, messing around and throwing bottles of soap at each other. Josef put his clothes down on an empty bench and removed his glasses, making a beeline for the closest shower. He turned the water on and just stood underneath the scalding stream that pounded his shoulders. He soaped quickly through his hair and just let the shampoo run over the length of his body. He rinsed off and practically jumped out of the shower portion, his bare feet pattering on the tile. He felt nervous because the laughing of the boys had disappeared but they were still in there.

Josef pulled on his pyjama shorts and combed through his hair with his fingers. His blood ran cold as he was aware of a looming shadow that had appeared over him. Josef whirled around in terror as the two larger boys had stepped behind him. It was the stocky one with a poof of red hair on his head. One of them leaned forward and slammed his hand on the locker, pinning a cowering Josef underneath him.

"Fresh meat," he said and the other boy laughed, grinning malisciously. "Haven't seen you around, four eyes. Obviously, because your skin is lacking in some well needed bruises." The boy clenched his fist and his smile disappeared, replaced by a sneer. Josef whimpered, feeling fear tearing him apart from the inside. The boy raised his fist while his friend goaded him on. Josef saw his arm muscles bunch up and saw the wild look in his eyes as he struck.

The boy's fist never connected with Josef's face.

Instead, there was a mighty roar that ripped through the thick air and the next thing Josef saw was the boy's body sliding across the tiled floor. The boy scrambled upward and with a pitiful noise he bolted out of the room, his friend fighting him for space through the door. Josef turned on his rescuer.

It was the boy from the lunch room. The boy that had left English class.

He was still tensed in the stance he had been in when he rammed himself into Josef's attacker, with his shoulder dipped forward and his body lunged. He righted himself and turned to Josef, his sky blue eyes locking with Josef's gray ones.

"Th-thank you." Josef said, but the boy didn't reply. "Are you hurt?" Josef asked, knowing that his shoulder must be aching from the force of the blow. The boy winced and rolled his shoulder in response. "Follow me," Josef said and motioned for the boy to come. He followed hesitantly, his feet shuffling awkwardly before complying. He followed Josef through the dark halls and to the infirmary. Josef ran his hands along the underside of the door under his slender fingers caught on the spare key. "Don't tell anyone," he said, smiling slightly. They entered the infirmary together and Josef paced, thinking. "Now, Klaus told me what to do for an injured muscle. I doubt that you're injured too terribly, you look like a brick wall." Josef continued to ramble and the boy just stood, seeming content to listen to him.

Josef walked up to the boy and pressed his fingers into the shoulder that was used to plow. The shoulder blade was hot, but there was no swelling that Josef could feel. "It's probably going to be incredibly sore tomorrow, but you'll live," Josef smiled at him and turned to face him again. The boy shuffled awkwardly for a moment. "Are you allright? Are you shy?" Josef asked, a bit concerned. The boy opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but closed it. After a long silence he opened his mouth to speak again.

It was a garbled, foreign language that rumbled in his throat. Josef's eyebrows shot up. He immediately recognized what the boy was speaking.

"You're Russian?" Josef said but the boy didn't say anything. Realization smacked Josef in the face. Here he was, rambling on and on to someone who didn't understand a lick of German. Josef's face softened. He pointed to himself and said slowly,

"Josef,"

The boy understood this gesture and he pointed to himself and replied,

"Misha."

**Coming up:**

"Look! He's going to cry!" one of them shouted, pointing a finger at Josef who was still kneeling on the ground, vainly trying to keep blood off of his white shirt.


	4. Promise

**Hello everyone! I feel like I'm pumping these updates out rather fast and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing...I have about half of this story pre-written, the other half is suffering from serious writer's block at the moment but don't fear! I don't plan on ever abandoning you guys; you mean too much to me. **

**To Oomara13: Hello! And yes, the teacher's name was purposeful in it's translation, I'm glad someone caught that! Let me just say that your reviews mean a lot to me, especially the first one you posted...I was sitting in a coffee shop and when I read that I almost squealed but instead settled for grinning like an idiot with my hands over my mouth.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter...the plot actually begins to thicken in the next one. **

**Also: something VERY important to note. It comes into play in the next chapter, but you guys need to be paying attention to the dates because when we get out of the orphanage I skip around a lot. Just keep that in mind if you're reading and suddenly we're somewhere completely different. **

"No, no, they need to be closer together." Klaus murmured. Josef's chest felt compressed with embarrassment and horror as the boy he was working on whimpered in pain again. The boy couldn't have been seven, with a shock of blonde hair and hollowed eyes. He was pants-less and shaking, one bony knuckle clamped in between his teeth as tears streamed down his face. Josef didn't dare to meet his eyes for fear of losing his nerve, but he screamed a silent 'I'm sorry!' in his mind.

The boy had a deep, nasty cut on his upper thigh where he tripped outside and had fallen against the old rusted chain-link fence that surrounded the orphanage. Josef had to give him a tetanus shot, and the images of the needle sliding under the boy's papery skin was still burned in his mind and he felt his throat constrict as he gagged again. After he cleaned the cut, Klaus announced it was time Josef learned how to sew and showed him the first few stiches on the boy's leg. The boy had cried out in pain each time the needle went into his flesh but now he was reduced to a constant whimper and sobbing noises. Klaus had worked fast and tight, keeping his elbows in and his movements sharp. Josef, on the other hand, was sloppy and clumsy and he got the needle stuck in the flesh of the thigh more than once.

"Stop thinking about it and just do it. The faster you get it done, the quicker the pain will be over," Klaus told him and Josef tried to block out all the emotion that was muddying his concentration. He plunged the needle into the flesh once more and the boy jerked his head back in agony and a strangled cry emanated from him.

"I'm sorry," Josef whispered as he continued in his endeavor, making his stiches closer together and more even. "So sorry," he said again, on reflex, but he wasn't sure if he meant it or not. He finished and tied the knot, clipping the line with a nearby scalpel. Klaus took over then and bandaged the boy's leg, cleaning up all the blood and tissue that had pooled around him. Josef was shaking. He thought having to take Klaus' blood was bad, but he had just sewed a young boy's leg back together.

He thought he might vomit.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Today's lunch was a burnt piece of some sort of meat with mushy greens on the side. Josef had snagged two nearly rotten oranges, which was a delicacy around here. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had fresh fruit. He sighed, turning to walk to his usual lunch table. He hadn't spoken to Misha since the shower incident, which had been a week ago. Gradually, he had moved a few chairs down each day so he was closer to him, but they still didn't talk. It's not like they could have talked anyway. They spoke different languages, and Josef didn't have any Russian to study so he could learn. Today, however, Misha had a thick book beside of him and Josef's innate curiosity took hold of him and he sat right across from the boy, giving him a half-smile. Misha brightened up immediately when he saw Josef this close to him.

The book Misha had beside of him was a very faded copy of a Russian to German dictionary. Josef felt something twinge in his heart. Misha had been studying for a week so they could try to have a conversation and Josef had done nothing to pursue the friendship. He felt almost guilty.

"Hello…" Misha began to speak in German with his thick Russian accent. Every word was a hesitation and Josef leaned forward in earnest, silently encouraging him to continue. "I am Misha. I am ten." He said brokenly and looked at Josef sheepishly to see if he had gotten it right. Josef's fork almost slid out of his thin fingers in shock. Ten? This boy was two years younger than him and he was already twice as tall and wide as most of the boys here. Maybe he had misspoken. Josef nodded slightly, and then said very slowly:

"What are you doing here in Germany?" Misha's eyes widened at the question and he flipped frantically through the dictionary. Josef waiting patiently for him to figure it out, stabbing his fork idly into the tough piece of meat on his plate.

"Ah…" Misha hesitated then cleared his throat. "We came on boat. My father…dead. Mother…" Misha paused to think of the word, and then made a swirling movement around his temples. "Crazy. Crazy from grief. I am now here." He said and closed his mouth, his sky-blue eyes reflecting that he wished to drop the subject. Josef nodded slightly and they continued eating in silence.

Near the end of the allotted time they had for lunch, Misha pushed a piece of paper towards Josef. He grabbed it and frowned at the strange shapes on the paper. He raised a black eyebrow in question at Misha.

"Is alphabet. Cyrillic." Josef's heart sped up and he gripped the paper tighter. The look of eagerness on Josef's face was enough to make Misha laughed. It was a rich laugh that made the air feel warm and Josef laughed with him. They spent the rest of their precious time huddled together with Misha showing Josef how to say and write each letter.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Why don't you go outside?" Klaus said from the corner of the infirmary. Josef looked up sharply from his task of sorting pills. His nimble fingers worked effortlessly through the bucket of assorted capsules, dropping them into their assigned bins. He asked Klaus how they had become so jumbled in the first place but was answered with a glare and silence. He didn't really care, anyway. "Are you going to answer me?" Klaus asked again, his already thin patience gone.

Klaus never asked him anything other than to do work. It caught him off guard.

"I…I don't know." Josef lied. He was scared to go outside with all the other boys. He had been wary of everyone except Misha since the shower incident, and that had been weeks ago.

"Every day when you get your administered hour outside, you sit in here with me. You're pale and weak. Some exercise would do you good." Klaus sniffed, still not even bothering to look at Josef. Klaus' insults usually didn't faze Josef, but this one made him feel a bit hot in the head and he couldn't explain it. Almost like anger was pushing behind his eyes. He really _was _weak. Stick thin arms and legs with bones that jutted out at sharp angles. Maybe he should go outside. Surely nobody would bother him, he had been forgotten altogether, it seemed. He was just the little ghost boy who lived in the infirmary and gave them medicine when they felt ill.

Josef stood and left without another word, abandoning his pill-sorting.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When was the last time he'd seen the sun?

It seemed almost foreign to him. It felt wonderful and he breathed in the fresh air. A cold breeze threatened to knock his skinny frame to the ground, but the sun warmed his face and seeped into his bones, filling him with energy. He surveyed the other boys. Some were running around, engaged in an intense game of tag. Other boys were knocking over ant hills and daring each other to stick their foot in. The older boys were just hanging around and talking, doing nothing in particular. Josef spotted Misha's large frame in the midst of a group of boys throwing a ball around. He might not have been able to understand them but he looked like he was having fun so Josef decided not to disturb him with another Russian lesson.

A dull blow to the back of his head sent his vision dark.

Suddenly, Josef found himself introducing his face with the ground.

He fell hard, his arms doing nothing to stop the fall as his face ground into the scraggly, dead grass. A very strange pain was creeping across the back of his head and he reached up tenderly, recoiling in horror as hot blood smeared his fingers. The pain went from a throbbing ache to a sudden explosion of whiteness that made him cry out.

He couldn't see.

He had a horrible feeling that it was linked to the blood that was trickling out of the back of his skull, but he saw his glasses cast to the side and he fumbled to put them on, desperate to make the world clear again. He shakily turned to see what had attacked him.

It was the boys from the shower, with a few others behind them. The main one was smirking and tossing a rock up and down in the air menacingly.

They were throwing _rocks_ at him?

Josef felt heat behind his eyes, but it wasn't the anger like before. It was wetness.

"Look! He's going to cry!" one of them shouted, pointing a finger at Josef who was still kneeling on the ground, vainly trying to keep blood off of his white shirt.

The boys laughed.

It was cruel and uneven laughter that made Josef feel something inside of him that he had never felt before. It was like his insides were twisting over themselves and he felt his thoughts begin to cloud with a red haze.

Then the laughter stopped.

Josef's mind became sharp again and he looked to see the ringleader with the red hair on the ground, unmoving.

Misha stood over his body with his fists clenched and nostrils flaring.

He had knocked the boy out cold with a single punch.

Josef was aware that Misha could have snapped his thin body in half, but the gentleness he used when picking Josef up off the ground was a 180 degree turnaround from the stoic figure standing over the boy's limp body. Misha's face only housed concern, but a deep, cold anger was buried. He saw the blood on Josef's hands and neck and gripped him by the shoulders until they were face to face.

"I will protect you. Always." Misha clamped his hand over his heart. "Promise."

And Josef believed him.


	5. Oskar

**WHEW. Good gracious...I know this might not seem that long to you guys but this was originally two chapters that I smashed into one. I'm sorry for the confusion because I FORGOT TO PUT A SNEAK PEEK ON THE END OF MY LAST CHAPTER. I assure you all, there is much, MUCH more to this story and I hope that you're still here...the last chapter was NOT the end. My apologies. **

**You remember when I told you to pay attention to the dates, right?**

**We're about to be jumping through time here and in the next few chapters. Hold onto your butts. **

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

"Yes! You did it!" Josef cheered a little too loudly. Misha grinned at his enthusiasm. They had been sneaking in the infirmary every night for the past few months to have little sessions of learning each other's languages. Misha especially liked it when Josef wrote paragraphs in German and he had to read them aloud. It was sort of like a sleepover. Not that they would know, however. Neither of them had ever been to one.

Josef was lying on his stomach on the operating table, shuffling papers with Russian words on them like flash cards. Misha was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and he looked like he was thinking very hard.

"What are you thinking about?" Josef poked him in the shoulder with a pen playfully. Misha shook his head.

"Those boys who hurt you," he said. His German was getting more and more confident as the days went, and Josef was impressed of how much he'd learned in just these short months.

"Forget about them. That was so long ago and they haven't bothered me since. Besides, I've got you for protection." Josef wanted to drop the subject, but he could see it was still on Misha's mind.

"You should learn to fight. Defend yourself. I will not always be here."

_This is a rather melancholy conversation for two preteen boys to be having… _

Josef thought as he saw the seriousness in Misha's eyes. He rolled his own, trying to bring some light-heartedness into the young boy's life.

"Me? Fighting? That'll be the day," Josef said, laughing.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Take your time," Klaus said quietly. Josef took a deep breath, trying to block out the boy's feverish panting.

He was one of the boys who had thrown rocks at him. He had a phantom pain in the back of his head as he remembered the incident. Klaus seemed to know something was wrong, but all he said was "You are a doctor. You wear impartiality like a second skin."

The boy was in so much pain.

He had fallen off of the roof of the building doing some stupid unknown stunt, and had dislocated his shoulder badly.

Josef just hoped he had enough body strength to set it properly.

Slowly but deliberately, he bent the boy's arm further behind his back and pressed his fingers into the inflamed flesh around his shoulder. The boy whimpered once more, but without any warning Josef gave a massive shove and he wrenched the boy's shoulder back into its socket with a sick clicking noise.

The boy screamed in agony and writhed on the table, bowing his body upward as he screwed his eyes shut. Klaus quickly took over to calm the boy down and finish his shoulder.

Josef didn't even realize how much he had enjoyed the boy's tortured screams.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Where was Misha?

Josef sighed impatiently. Usually the gentle giant was waiting for him every morning, but today he was nowhere to be found. Josef absentmindedly straightened his shirt and tie so Klaus wouldn't do it for him. He leaned against the wall and scanned over some Russian nouns he knew by heart, trying to pass the time. If he waited anymore he would be late for class. He started to turn to leave, but a person blocked his path.

It was his tormentor, whose name he had finally learned to be Oskar. The boy from the showers. The boy who had thrown rocks at him. The boy who was currently leaning against the wall with a strange smile curled into his cheeks. Josef tried to step past him but he only moved to block his way.

"Looks like your little body guard isn't around to help you this time," Oskar said quietly, but it was deafening compared to the silence in the hallway.

"Please just leave me alone," Josef replied, hating how desperate he sounded. His heart was beating out of his chest and he was ready to raise his schoolbooks as a shield if need be.

Oskar lunged forward and flat-palmed Josef's chest with both hands, sending the boy sprawling across the floor. Josef's books and papers exploded everywhere and he shook his head, trying to steady the room which had decided to start spinning. Josef felt a solid kick to his ribs and then he was flat on his back, tears welling in his eyes as he tried to force breath into his damaged lungs. "It was supposed to be ME Klaus picked, not you!" Oskar hissed at him through gritted teeth.

Oskar was trying to kick him to death.

Josef cried out weakly for God or Misha or Klaus, whoever came to his rescue first.

There was a horrible stabbing pain in his side and a crunch inside his body. Oskar had broken a rib.

Josef felt something inside of him.

It was hot and dark and unpleasant. It was foreign to him, but achingly familiar all the same. It was the same emotion he felt bubbling when Oskar had thrown rocks at him, but Misha's presence had squelched it before Josef had a chance to identify it.

It consumed him like fire, blooming in his stomach and shooting up his spine and chest like static, filling his body with an unnatural energy.

It was primal.

It was instinctual.

It was _wonderful._

Josef felt a growl rumble in throat and suddenly his vision was clouded with a red haze and he felt every muscle in his body contract. There was so much adrenaline coursing through his small frame that the overwhelming pain receptors from his broken rib didn't even register as he picked himself up and lunged at Oskar.

Suddenly Josef was clawing, screaming, crying, and _tearing _at Oskar's throat. The boy yelled in pain and surprise, succumbing to Josef. He tried to scramble backward but Josef jumped on top of him, straddling his chest and punching him in the face. He felt his bony knuckles crack as they made contact with Oskar's already crooked nose and the pain lanced up the flat of his forearm, rendering his right shoulder useless.

Josef felt alive and dead at the same time.

Oskar's blood soaked the front of his shirt and droplets splattered up and streaked his glasses and the wide grin that split his face. Oskar's red hair went from its natural eye-shocking color to one dulled by the thick liquid. Josef felt Oskar go limp underneath him and the boy's eyes rolled in the back of his head.

Josef felt the energy drain out of his body and he barely heard shouts and screams and multiple hands that dragged him away from the wonderland of bloodlust.

Josef collapsed into one pair of arms in particular, and he locked his eyes with ones the color of the sky and suddenly everything was allright.

The blue faded into a black nothingness.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Pain.

Guilt.

Confusion.

Stubby, warm fingers intertwined with his.

Josef cracked his eyes open, hoping that he had just had a terrible nightmare.

The horrible stabbing with each breath and the thick bandage on his side told him otherwise. He was in the infirmary. Klaus was nowhere to be found but Misha was by his bedside, holding his hand and whispering something in Russian. He was praying.

Josef squeezed Misha's hand lightly; alerting the boy he was awake. Misha's head snapped up, his eyes red from crying.

"Josef, I am so sorry. So very sorry. I was not there. I did not protect you. I broke my promise," fresh tears slid down Misha's face and Josef weakly wiped them away.

Breathing was difficult. Talking was impossible.

"You'll…you'll have other chances…" Josef wheezed and closed his eyes again, fading from the serene blue to the uncomfortable blackness once more.

**Stuttgart, Germany: ****1920**

Josef roamed the quiet halls with his hands in his pockets. The six years he had originally thought were going to be Hell had flown by. After his little episode with Oskar, the boy had been transferred to another orphanage and Klaus had fought with administration about Josef's innocence, telling them the horrors Oskar had inflicted on him.

The solemn walls reflected Josef's own emotion inside: _gray. _To anyone on the outside, the chipped paint and musty smell may have been off-putting, but under the layers of grime housed so many memories. The corner where he and Misha kneeled, frantically giving each other answers to the work they didn't do. The far wall where they stood and told each other dirty jokes until they cried with laughter. The rusted door to the infirmary where they spent most nights, talking and pondering their future. They soon discovered what that future was, however.

Misha had told him a week ago that he was going back to Russian to fight for America in The Great War.

"No…no, Misha. No!" Josef had proclaimed, tears springing to his eyes. He yelled at him, he begged him; he beat on his broad chest until his hands were numb, but Misha's mind was made up.

"I am not smart like you, Josef. You are going to college to be doctor. You will help many people, and I will hurt many people. Such is the way of life."

_Such is the way of life._

"You're not even old enough!" Josef hissed through gritted teeth, his fists clenched in anger.

Misha was only sixteen, but he towered over all the other boys, an intimidating figure. He was over six feet, as broad as he was tall with brawny arms as a result from laboring in the yard.

Josef was two years older than his friend, having turned eighteen late in the year. He had filled out considerably and cut a handsome figure in his young adulthood. His sharp jawline was tensed as he heard the news, his black hair drooping slightly in his face.

He had been drafted to be in The Great War, but he pleaded conscientious objector. They then tried to draft him as a field medic but when they came to physically assess him he had walked with a prominent limp to deter them and they went on their way.

He just couldn't hold a gun…couldn't cause intentional harm to other people. It made him shudder thinking about it. Instead, Josef had been accepted in the Medizinische Fakultät in Berlin where he would be comfortably living a university life and making friends while Misha was off dying.

The memory made bile rise in Josef's throat and he stopped just outside of the infirmary. He felt a flutter of panic in his chest. Was his tie straight? Was his shirt pressed? Were his pants creased? It didn't matter that Josef was leaving today; he knew that Klaus would still give him a verbal lashing if everything wasn't absolutely perfect. He took a deep breath and entered.

In six years of working with Klaus, it seemed the man hadn't aged at all. There were new wrinkles etched in his face and his beard had gotten scragglier, but he was still stick-thin and tall as could be. He might could've looked Misha in the eye if he was standing up straight, which he always was.

"_Perfect posture."_

Josef felt Klaus' voice whisper in his ear even though the man was all the way across the room. Josef cleared his throat.

"Yes?" Klaus snapped, not looking up from the notebook he was writing in.

"I'm leaving." Josef said and Klaus paused, laying his pen gently on the table. He looked up at Josef and their eyes met. Josef felt Klaus' eyes perusing his clothes and body, and Josef kept every muscle tensed, waiting for the silent inspection to pass. Klaus gave a slight nod and stood from the desk, walking over to Josef. He loomed over him, having to look down at him. Josef hadn't gotten very tall with age, but he thought he might topple over backwards if he stood any straighter, his 5'10", sharp frame perfectly aligned.

"Do you have all your things?" Klaus asked.

"Yes, I-" whatever he was about to say was cut short as Klaus wrapped him in a hug. It was the longest, stiffest, most awkward hug of his life but Josef buried his face in the crook of Klaus' neck and hugged him back, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. No matter the horrors he faced in this infirmary, no matter the verbal abuse, no matter scrubbing all the skin off his hands while washing the tools, he would never forget the time spent with Klaus right after he attacked Oskar, when Klaus kneeled beside the operating table and scraped blood and skin out from under Josef's fingernails. He bid his last goodbyes to Klaus and went off to find someone else.

Misha was just sitting in silence with his luggage beside him. He didn't look up when Josef entered the room.

"Please don't go," Josef whimpered, knowing that it would do no good. Misha shook his head sadly.

"I am sorry. Sorry that I will not be around to protect you anymore." Misha said and Josef saw tears cutting tracks down his face.

"You're going to stain your shirt with tears," Josef scolded fondly and Misha gave a small laugh.

"I will write. I will write every chance I get." Misha promised, his voice thick with emotion. He stood slowly and hesitantly wrapped his huge arms around Josef, bringing him into a hug. This hug was the polar opposite of the hug with Klaus. It was warm and firm and brought Josef to tears. They hugged for what felt like an eternity until Misha stepped back from him and gave him a sad smile. "You will make good doctor. I will come visit you when war is over. You will meet beautiful girl and fall in love, and raise a strong family together. I will always be here to protect you, even if I am far away." Misha patted him once on the shoulder before walking out of the orphanage for the last time.

Josef wondered if he would ever see him again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**Coming up:**

"_Gottverdammt!_" he screamed, sweeping papers and beakers and everything else off into the floor in a fit of anger. His night's worth of work was ruined by a single drop of blood.


	6. Madde

***squeals* We're out of the orphanage, you guys! Things might look bleak at the end of this chapter...but for every sad moment there's a happy one, right?**

**And then sometimes after happy moments, authors like to rip your heart out again...**

**I don't think you'll all be very pleased with me a couple chapters after this one...**

**BUT THE NEXT ONE IS HAPPY, I PROMISE. **

**I didn't really say anything useful here, did I? Whoops. **

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Berlin, Germany: 1922

"Can I sit with you?" a voice interrupted Josef's intense train of thought and he looked up sharply, scowling. His hard expression was immediately softened when his steel gray eyes met with icy blue ones.

The girl was tall and skinny, with a mass of dark curls that cascaded from shoulders. She smiled at him with thin pink lips and he found himself smiling back.

"O-of course," he stammered and scooted over to allow her more room on the bench.

"I'm Madde." She introduced herself with an outstretched hand and Josef took it gently, as If he was afraid to hurt her.

"Josef," he said, his throat a bit strained.

"I'm a senior," she went on, settling in the bench beside him, their hips brushing. Josef felt a blush blooming on the bridge of his nose but he figured he could blame it on the cold.

"Sophomore." He replied. They sat in silence for a bit and Josef turned back to his book but reading was suddenly impossible with the beautiful girl sitting next to him.

"What are you studying?" her soft, sweet voice roused him once more and he snapped the book closed, turning to face her.

"Ah, I'm studying English." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"English? Are you fluent?" Josef shook his head sadly, pausing to wipe his glasses off even though there was nothing on them.

"I'm fluent in Russian, but I know enough conversational English that would get me by in America," She nodded appreciatively.

"Planning on going to America anytime soon?" She asked. Josef looked into the distance.

"No…not anytime soon. I have a friend fighting _for_ America though. He's in the war." Madde nodded slowly as if she understood his pain.

"Well, Josef, thank you for letting me sit with you." She stood and Josef stood with her, even though he didn't have anywhere to go.

"Ah, of course. I'll…I'll see you around campus, then?" Madde gave him a warm smile.

"I hope so," she turned and walked away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"You've got mail, Josef." A boy from his pathology class called to him from downstairs. He was always nice to Josef and sat beside of him during lectures, but Josef had never bothered to learn his name.

"Mail?" Josef mentally marked the place in the book he was reading and poked his head out of the door, frowning.

"I can't read who it's from…it's not written in German or English. I don't even think it's a language." The boy wrinkled his nose in confusion.

Josef's blood ran cold in his veins and he felt his spine prickle. He tore out of his room and sprinted down the hall, snatching the letter right out of the boy's hand. He backed away in innocence and just shook his head as Josef ran back into his dorm and slammed the door behind him.

Josef crushed the letter to his chest and leaned against the wall for support. He instantly recognized the scratchy, blocky handwriting and he trembled as he opened it. The tears began spilling down his face.

_Dear Josef,_

_How are you? I hope you are having a good time in school. _

_I missed the motherland. It is so familiar…so beautiful. Even if I am surrounded by gunfire and death, it is still amazing to wake up every morning to the fresh blanket of snow. Since I am so strong, they've put me in charge of the heavy weapons. It's very interesting. I think you would like learning about them, even though I know you do not like warfare. I guess some of us are just built for it. _

_I miss you every day. I am sorry I cannot write more often, we just don't ever have the time to. If you write me back I may not receive it since we move around so much. _

_Much love,_

_Misha _

Josef's chest felt like it had metal bands around it and they constricted tighter with every word on the page. He ran his shaking fingers over it gently, as if he could touch the words. He folded the letter up and put it back in its envelope, pressing it to his heart once more as he sighed. Misha was alive. Everything was okay.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Josef sighed, plopping down in his seat at the front of the classroom. He hadn't slept well the night before, the images from his nightmares flashing briefly at the front of his mind. It wasn't unusual for him to have nightmares, but he hadn't had one this bad since his time in the orphanage. It was dark and confusing and left him with a strange taste in his mouth.

"Is this seat taken?" a rough voice spoke beside of him. Josef turned to look at his inquirer, a polite smile making its way to his face.

"No, it's-" Josef's words died in his throat with a strangled noise. His eyes widened as recognition slapped him in the face. There was no mistaking the man's flaming red hair, the dulled eyes and the smattering of freckles across his pale cheeks. "It's empty." Josef finished, finding his voice again. The man grinned, his crooked teeth sending shivers of fear through Josef's entire being.

"Thanks! I just got here, starting the semester a bit late, I know." He laughed at his own comment and then slung his bag on the floor loudly and scooted into his seat. "Oskar," he introduced himself, holding out a wiry hand in greeting.

"Uh, Josef." Josef took his hand and the contact made him feel like he needed to run away and possibly vomit. Oskar's face fell momentarily but it was so quick Josef didn't even register it. His eyes darted to Oskar's neck and he saw old scars running across his throat in jagged scratches.

_I did that._

Oskar leaned back lazily in his chair. "So, is the teacher in here like everyone says? I heard he's mean as a snake, a real harda-"

"I'm sorry." Josef blurted out. Oskar knit his brows together in confusion. Inside of his mind Josef was screaming at himself. Why did you say that? He didn't even recognize you!

"Sorry? Did I miss something?" Oskar said, concern and trepidation creeping in on his body language.

"I…I'm sorry. I'm sorry about your neck." Oskar's hand fluttered up to his neck self-consciously and he blushed.

"It's just an old injury," he began but Josef leaned forward until Oskar could take in his entire face.

"No. Oskar, I'm_sorry_." He said, inches away from his face. Oskar's thin eyebrows just furrowed even harder in thought. The long face, the dark hair, the glasses…Oskar went ridged in his seat.

Those glasses. The small, round spectacles that sat low on his wide nose. The glasses that glared in the light and hid the crazed eyes of the little boy trying to rip his throat out. Oskar felt phantom claws gouging through his neck and he stood up out of his desk so suddenly the chair clattered to the floor and everyone in the class fell silent at the noise.

"You..." Oskar wheezed, his hand still clutching his throat. "Stay away from me. You're a monster, do you hear me? You're a monster!" he yelled and Josef felt his ears burn at all the negative attention in the room.

"Oskar, please!" Josef raised his own voice, making a move to stand but Oskar snatched his bag and began backing away.

"Monster," he snarled quietly and stalked off to the farthest ends of the classroom to be away from Josef. All eyes were on him and he felt every pair boring holes into him. The room started to sway a bit and Josef ran out of the classroom hugging his books to his chest, holding back shameful tears.

He wasn't a monster…was he?

Berlin, Germany: 1924

Anyone on the outside would have seen a handsome figure sitting at a desk, calmly looking over notes. Josef, however, was anything but calm. He was leaned over the desk in mental agony, his hand a permanent fixture in his hair, pulling at it in frustration. His eyes were narrowed into slits and his teeth clenched in concentration. He couldn't understand for the life of him _what was missing. _He had discovered the equation and formula by accident one day while working in the chemistry labs. He became his own guinea pig, and he was now covered in more scars and bruises than he cared to admit from the testing. He was going to be famous. The watery red liquid he made by accident had to have had some sort of supernatural element to it. It was the ultimate medicine, and he couldn't replicate it.

_He had to get this right._

At twenty-one, Josef was in his physical prime. He was filled out completely, strong arms and a broad chest and shoulders that tapered down to a muscular torso. His hard, crystal features had only become more endearing with age, and he had even grown a pair of black sideburns, the length to school regulation, of course.

Josef slammed his fist down in anger on the table and gasped in pain, drawing his hand up. Dummkopf. He had brought his anger down right onto a nearby surgical tool and it sliced right into his hand. The sleeplessness and emotion bubbling in him just made him want to break down right there in the middle of the empty lab. He hissed every curse word he had ever known and shook his hand vigorously, scattering drops of blood everywhere. A single drop fell into the petri dish which held the faintly red liquid and it stained the batch, ruining it.

"_Gottverdammt!_" he screamed, sweeping papers and beakers and everything else off into the floor in a fit of anger. His night's worth of work was ruined by a single drop of blood.

The mixture began to glow faintly.

Josef watched in awe as the petri dish seemed to swirl on its own and the liquid increased in intensity of color. It was hardly even liquid…some sort of filmy substance. Blood began roaring in his ears. If his calculations were correct…Josef gently dabbed his fingers in the mixture and smeared it over his newly acquired cut on the side of his hand.

Nothing happened.

This was supposed to work! Maybe it was just taking it's time…? The liquid seeped in and around the cut but nothing happened. Maybe it had to be ingested? Josef hopefully dabbed a pinkie in the petri dish and licked it off.

He vomited.

It tasted so incredibly foul that the moment it hit his taste buds he felt his stomach constrict and he retched bile all over himself. It happened so quickly that he didn't even have a chance to react.

Broken and defeated, Josef considered his last option. He knew how dangerous it was to inject a foreign, possibly poisonous liquid into your bloodstream, but as usual, his curiosity got the better of him. He felt a grin split his face but he wasn't sure why as he snatched a syringe from under the desk. He filled the needle with a full dosage and it hovered right over the crook of his elbow, the tip scratching the surface of his skin. He had a brief flashback to the time when he was with Klaus, when needles made his squeamish. Josef slid the syringe under his skin and slowly pushed the plunger.

It was amazing.

He felt it spread through him like liquid fire, the flames coursing through his veins and warming his entire body. He felt like he could run forever. He was smiling, but nothing was funny.

As quickly as the elation began it stopped when he felt his heart give an unnatural twitch. A horrible look crossed Josef's face and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. His heart had been beating so fast it had become a hum, but now every pump seemed strained. It gave a final flutter, and then stilled altogether.

It was the most agony Josef had ever been in.

He felt his blood slow in his veins and then…nothingness.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Crimson light washed over him.

At first it felt peaceful, but then there was a sudden wrenching in his chest that made him gasp in pain.

Was this Hell…?

Before he got his answer, reality came rushing back a bit too quickly and he opened his eyes to a dreary hospital ceiling. He had an IV in his arm and he suddenly didn't want it there. Josef hissed as an emotion he couldn't identify swelled inside of him and he scratched at it, detaching it from his arm. A doctor stepped around the corner and Josef looked up in alarm.

He must've looked a mess. Suddenly the doctor warped and became tall and thin with a white beard and a sneer carved into his face. He was shaking Josef by the shoulders and telling him that he wasn't like the other children, bursting into rage when he mislabeled a bottle, and then quietly encouraging him to wash the blood off of the tools.

Josef blinked in terror, half expecting Klaus to stride across the room and straighten his clothes with a verbal thrashing; but Klaus wasn't there. Josef rubbed his eyes frantically with one hand.

It was just a short, plump doctor with light hair and a calm look on his face.

"How are you feeling, Josef?" he asked, striding into the room and looking over his clipboard.

"I feel…" Josef felt his cheek muscles twitch strangely and suddenly his vision blurred with tears as his abs constricted.

He was laughing; nothing was funny.

Josef howled with laughter, clutching his stomach in pain as he rolled over on the hospital bed, screwing his eyes shut. He wasn't sure what was so hilarious, just that it felt good to laugh.

He wanted to feel good again.

He _always_ wanted to feel good like this.

Through his laughter, a few memories slipped through the midst of his pure joy. He was…stressed, wasn't he? He was upset because he was trying to finish a project for class. That's right. Graduation was in a couple of months…what was he going to wear?

Hot tears slid down Josef's face and his euphoria turned into slight discomfort as he _couldn't stop laughing._

_._

It was that liquid that he injected himself with; _that's_ why he felt so good.

"You had a heart attack, Josef," the doctor said, his face was still calm despite the throaty, psychotic laughter barking from the young man. "Mr. Schmerz, you're twenty-one. You shouldn't just go around having heart attacks. Does anyone in your family have a record of heart problems? Have you been dabbling in something you shouldn't have been?" his voice was soft and it seemed to sober Josef up slightly. He shook his head and blinked owlishly at the doctor. He felt like a child being scolded softly for taking one too many cookies after dinner. The doctor sighed. "We're going to keep you here overnight, Mr. Schmerz. You can return to the university in the morning," Josef nodded that he understood.

As soon as the doctor left, Josef felt his body tugging in on itself.

He needed to feel good again.

**Coming up:** Who knew birds could sneeze?


	7. Wedding Bells

**Hi guys! I'm back with another update after that weird error thing with the site...was anyone else getting that? Here's a nice...safe...short...happy chapter for you. Happy, happy, everyone's happy!**

***cringes***

**Let's just say that happiness doesn't usually last for long in Josef's world.**

**Stuttgart, Germany: 1928**

Josef was feeling anything but good.

He stood rigidly, staring into the distance. The music started and he felt his heart jump further into his throat, nearly choking him. Then he turned to look down the aisle.

There she was.

Her brown curls were pinned back, allowing her radiant face to shine through the veil. The simple white dress clung to her thin frame.

She was_glowing. _

Madde beamed at him, swaying her hips in time with the music as she clutched her bouquet of roses closer to her chest. Josef had ended up with his college sweetheart after all, dating her briefly before proposing to her on one freezing night when his fingers had been so cold he couldn't open the ring box. Misha's words echoed in his mind.

_"__You will meet beautiful girl and fall in love, and raise a strong family together…"_

Josef was already on the verge of tears at seeing his soon to be wife walking down the aisle in all her magnificent glory, and the mere thought of his oldest friend sent him over the edge and he felt a single hot tear slide down his face. He blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of them.

The priest began to speak but all Josef could see was Madde's face, a light dusting of pink covering her cheeks on her otherwise bare face.

Josef wasn't sure if he'd ever seen anything quite so beautiful.

"Do you, Josef Schmerz take Madde Taube to be your lawfully wedding wife?" the priest looked at him warmly and Josef nodded dumbly, his lips moving but no words coming out.

"Y-yes. I do." He whispered, and he meant it.

"And do you, Madde Taube, take Josef Schmerz to be your lawfully wedded husband?" she looked levelly at her husband.

"I do." She giggled slightly at the end.

"Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Josef suddenly realized he had never kissed anyone before. He was twenty six years old and he his lips had never made contact with another woman. There had been no girls at the orphanage…and no one really struck his fancy at college…he was too busy with his work.

She leaned forward and Josef followed, acting on instinct. It was a mere peck, a slightly awkward exchange but nonetheless she grabbed him by the wrist and lifted his hand in jubilance as the music began again and they walked down the aisle as Mr. and Mrs. Josef Schmerz.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The reception was outside, on a relatively warm day. Tables were set up with all kinds of food and drinks…it was simple, but beautiful. All of Madde's family came to congratulate them as well as her friends she had invited. Even though this was by far the best day of his life, Josef couldn't help the talon of loneliness that had wormed it's way inside of him and was currently eating away at his joy. He had no family to speak of, no friends, nothing. It was like he barely existed.

He felt a smile pull at his face as seeing his wife jumping around and squealing with her friends. He picked up tidbits of their conversation now and then.

"He really IS handsome, isn't he, Madde?" the blonde one kept repeating, stealing glances at Josef.

"There's something about a man with glasses…" one of them giggled and made an exaggerated eye roll and bent herself at the knees. Madde responded with laughing loudly and smacking her in the arm.

He thought about getting a drink, but Madde suddenly broke away from her friends, walking over to him with her dress hiked up to avoid dragging it in the mud. He greeted her with a smile but the confused look on her face made him pause.

"There's someone here to see you," she said and Josef furrowed his brows.

"To see me?" he echoed. She nodded. "Who is it?" she bit her lip.

"He's over there. I've never seen him before." She nodded slightly at a crowd of people.

"Hm. Let me go check it out," Josef squeezed her arm slightly and walked briskly over to wherever this man was. The people parted with some kind of supernatural force and there was one man in the center of the crowd, standing with his hands in his pockets, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Josef's heart stopped.

Time slowed down around him, everyone walking in slow motion. The soft din of the crowd became a peculiar ringing in his ears.

Josef felt his world jerk strangely and before his brain could even have a chance to process the overload of emotions he was running. Running towards the massive man at full speed.

Josef collided with him but the momentum didn't rock him at all. The man laughed and the familiar sound caused tears to immediately erupt from Josef's eyes and he was vaguely aware of the fact he was no longer on the ground. The Russian's laughter rumbled low in his chest and vibrated through Josef's body, the warm arms holding him safely just like he remembered them.

"Misha!" Josef finally managed to say after several minutes of making strangled noises and alarming gasping.

"Josef," Misha said back and the two men just began the cycle again, hugging and crying and laughing.

"It's you- I- I thought you were dead!" Josef wiped his eyes and glasses, laughing at how useless they were with the lenses covered in tears of joy. "How did you even find me? Where have you been? How was the war? How did-" Josef's words died on his throat and the stupid grin he couldn't contain was beginning to hurt his cheeks. Misha had an amused look on his face and Josef just sighed and practically fell into the Russian, wrapping his arms around him loosely in a limp hug. "I'm just glad you're here," Josef said, his words muffled as he buried his face in Misha's chest.

"Me too," he said, the simple reply threatening to send Josef into racking sobs again.

"So you talked to Madde! What did you think of her? She's beautiful isn't she? We met in college- OH COLLEGE! Misha…I just have so much to tell you…" Josef took his large, rough hand in his own slender fingers and led him away to where they could both sit and catch up.

"Wait! I have present for you!" Misha stopped him from dragging him away quite yet. He pulled something large out from behind his back that he had somehow been concealing. It was an ornate, golden bird cage with a small lump of cloth inside of it.

"What…" Josef began but the bundle of cloth shivered slightly and a tiny white lump poked it's head out. It took Josef a moment to realize he was looking into a pair of beady black eyes. "There's something alive in there!" Josef said sharply, trying to hand the cage back to Misha. Misha chuckled softly.

"Is a tiny little dove. He followed me around everywhere during war. He let me take him and bring him back to Germany even. Thought you would like him," Josef still stared uncertainly at the little head before the bird reared back and gave an adorable little bird sneeze.

Who knew birds could sneeze?

"I love him," Josef beamed and hugged the cage to his chest. He took Misha by the hand once more, launching into a dissertation on the effects animal dander can have on an open wound.

Josef talked and Misha listened.

Everything was allright again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**Coming up:**

"Tell your employer, whoever he may be, that I am not interested. I am perfectly fine here at my current place of occupation," Josef forced a smile to his face. The two men offered no emotion in return.


	8. Burnell & Ormand

**I...have nothing to say here. *draws in breath* I hope you guys like this chapter. **

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**Stuttgart, Germany:****1939**

"You were a very good boy. And good boys get rewards!" the beaming doctor produced something from behind his back. It was a large, red, shiny lollipop. The boy gasped and lunged for it, wrapping his grubby little hands around it and shoving it into his mouth.

"_What_ do you say, Alfonso?" the boy's mother jerked him out of him reverie of the candy and he blinked at the doctor owlishly before pulling it out of his mouth with a *pop* sound.

"Thank you, doctor Schmerz!" the boy pushed himself off of the table and ran towards the doctor, wrapping a tight hug around his leg. The action startled him slightly and he bent down to hug him back, chuckling softly.

"You're quite welcome. Make sure you get some rest, okay?" He ruffled the boy's curly brown hair and he nodded earnestly, scampering out of the office.

"He's insane," the mother chuckled, pulling her handbag from seemingly nowhere and began digging in it. The terminology she used made Josef tense but she didn't notice it.

"Not insane…just active," he corrected her with a smile.

"How much do I owe you, doctor?" she had a couple of fingers slipped down into a worn wallet she had pulled from her purse.

"Nothing," he was quick to say. The woman hesitated. "Listen, I know Drugi got laid off from the mill," he added softly. "These are hard times for everyone. I think I can get by with one hooligan with a snotty nose going free," the woman pressed her lips in a thin line in what could have been some sort of smile. She snapped her wallet shut and returned it to the depths of her purse.

"You're a good person, Josef," she hurried out of the room with one fleeting glance at the man.

Josef let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He began tidying up the office, replacing things he had gotten out and closing the lid of the trash can. When order was restored he called out "Next, please!"

When no one came, Josef narrowed his eyes and walked out into the waiting area.

"I believe I'm next?" a soft voice spoke behind him and Josef whirled around to see his wife standing in the doorframe with a lopsided smile on her face. Josef feigned fright and put a hand over his heart as though he as trying to calm it.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" he scolded her lightly and walked up to her, grabbing her by the waist and pressing their foreheads together. She pulled away from him slightly and sighed, grabbing his wrists.

"What's wrong?" he prompted, rubbing his thumb over her hand in a gesture of affection.

"You're so good with those kids," she said, her voice thick with emotion. The weight of her words settled on Josef's broad shoulders and he nearly bent under the meaning.

"I know," he pulled her in for a hug and she accepted, wrapping her arms around him and hanging on. Josef felt the wetness of her tears through his shirt. "Hey, now. It just wasn't in the cards, now was it? Nothing either one of us could do," she just hugged him tighter.

They had found out soon into their marriage that Madde was sterile.

With Josef's extensive medical training he'd done everything in his power and in science's power to get his wife pregnant but it just wasn't going to happen.

So he had switched his studies and became a pediatrician, hoping to fill some kind of void in the lower region of his heart where he always hoped to be awoken by a houseful of stamping little feet.

Besides the sadness of that revelation, their life was wonderful together. They were in love, money was remotely steady, and they had food on the table and clothes on their backs. They couldn't complain. Josef had left his 'miracle medicine' project. It was simply too dangerous and addictive for him to continue exploring it, but his heart still raced and his wrists itched whenever it crossed his mind. He hadn't heard from Misha since the wedding day. Eleven years without contact could leave a lot up for interpretation but Josef only hoped that he was back in Russia with his mothers and his sisters, or he had found some beautiful girl who adored his muscular arms and soft midsection.

The bell at the front door jingled, the sound echoing through the empty doctor's office.

"I'm sorry, we're closed! Come back tomorrow unless it's an emergency!" Josef raised his voice so it would carry through to the front desk while he reluctantly broke away from his wife and walked to see who had entered. He tensed slightly when he saw two rather large men wearing strange uniforms standing rigidly at the desk.

"Are you Doctor Josef Schmerz?" the one on the left asked, his soft voice doing nothing to alleviate how imposing he was.

"Yes…that would be me. What brings you here?" Josef hardened his face and made his short frame as tall as it would go, striding swiftly around to assess these two.

"We have a job _offer_ for you," the one on the right spoke next. The way he said 'offer' made a shiver run up Josef's spine.

Something was off.

The left one held out a beige envelope with a seal of sorts stamped on the top right corner. Josef took it with shaking hands. He ran a slender finger over the seal, noting how cruel it looked…sort of like a broken 'X'. He had seen this mark before. They had been flying them on flags and parading it around town. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant but it couldn't be good. Josef handed him the letter back without even opening it.

"Tell your employer, whoever he may be, that I am not interested. I am perfectly fine here at my current place of occupation," Josef forced a smile to his face. The two men offered no emotion in return.

"You should think this over, Doctor. We would be very accommodating to your level of…skill," the right one spoke slowly as if trying to think of his words.

"No thank you," Josef said curtly and still stood in from of these two men, sniffing disdainfully, making it a point to look at his watch. "It is after closing hours. I'm going to have to ask that you leave," he shifted his focus to the door and nodded at it slightly.

"You're making a mistake, Schmerz," the one on the left growled and jerked his head towards the door, the other one following him. Josef only let his guard down when they were out of the building and down the street. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit, and he grasped the desk for support.

"Who was that?" Madde poked her head out, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Nobody," he said, a bit harsher than he meant to. "Nobody at all," he added softer. "Come on…let's, let's go home."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**BOOM**

**BOOM**

**BOOM**

Josef bolted upright in bed, a gasp dying in his throat.

"Madde," he said, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder, trying to rouse her. "Madde!" he said louder, his voice thick with sleep. She groaned and rolled over.

"Did you…have a nightmare?" Her words were punctuated by a yawn.

**BOOMBOOMBOOM**

She immediately pushed herself up in bed and met his frightened eyes, his own emotion reflecting in her face.

"What is that?" she whispered, her voice quivering.

"Stay here, and don't make a noise," he hissed at her, and pushed himself off the bed, icy adrenaline shooting through his veins. He slipped a shirt over his bare chest and tiptoed into his kitchen where he rummaged through the drawers until he found a sizeable butcher's knife. "Who is there?" he said through the door, tightening his grip around the hilt of the knife.

A sudden explosion of splintering wood met Josef's face and he yelped in pain as a large piece came in contact with the bridge of his nose, slicing it open.

The whiteness of pain blinded him momentarily and he was vaguely aware of two people storming in his house and beginning to trash it. He scrambled to his feet and lunged at the nearest invader, blinding swinging the knife. Blinded by pain and fury and blood, all Josef managed to do was get caught by his wrist, a large hand squeezing so tightly that he felt the bones grind together.

"Here she is!" a voice filled with malice announced and Josef blinked the blood out of his eyes to see Madde being dragged by her hair, her mouth a wide 'O', her knees becoming scraped and bloody on the wooden floor as she vainly tried to scrambled away from her captor.

"Good work, Ormand," the man holding Josef said with a grin.

_Ormand _

The name made Josef's blood boil in a way he hadn't felt in a long, _long_ time.

"LET HER GO!" Josef raged, delivering a vicious kick to the side of his own captor's knee. The man grunted in pain and used the hand that wasn't holding him to deliver a punch to Josef's already injured nose.

The pain was extraordinary.

His world visibly shattered like glass, fading away into pure whiteness. He gasped and fumbled around blindly, trying to bring his vision back.

"_He_ didn't warn us this one was a fighter," Josef heard Ormand's gruff voice accompanied with a boot nudging at his side.

"Doesn't matter. Nobody's a fighter once they have nothing to left to fight for," the other man sneered.

"What should we do with her, Burnell?"

_Burnell_

The revelation of the other man's name was enough to bring Josef staggering back to his feet. The world was cloudy and hazy; he didn't have his glasses on.

"Doctor Josef Schmerz, your wife is under arrest," Burnell addressed him like the whole fight hadn't even happened.

"Under…what charge?" he replied, spitting a copious amount of blood and snot in a little glob on the floor.

"Under the allegations of being a _Jew_," Ormand finished and grabbed her once more by her hair. She whimpered as tears cut tracks down her face. His wife's faith was so secret to anyone, but it had never brought trouble before.

"What? That's preposterous! You can't arrest someone for-" Josef words were cut off and Burnell's arm snapped out, wrapping a hand around Josef's throat and shoving him roughly against the wall.

"Oh, yes we can. Get this varmint out of my sight," Burnell snapped at Ormand and he nodded, dragging Madde by her brown locks as she kicked and screamed.

"Madde! MADDE!" Josef's voice was hoarse and barely audible against Burnell's crushing palm and he clawed and scratched at him, throwing every filthy obscenity he could think of at him.

"Of course…her sentence could be lightened if you made a little agreement with us," Burnell clucked his tongue as if he were speaking to a child. "You come work for us, your wife gets free," he growled.

"Yes! Yes, anything, I'll do anything- just, please don't hurt her!" Josef hated how pathetic his voice sounded but he managed to nod.

"Good," Burnell nodded curtly and let Josef go. The man fell to his knees and drew in a sharp breath and immediately regretted it. He began coughing so harshly that his shoulders shook and he couldn't find the strength to stand.

"Oh, get ahold of yourself!"

A voice much different than Ormand's or Burnell's echoed around the house. Josef felt his fingernails scrape into the wooden floor and his breath hitched in his throat as he was plunged into memories.

_"__GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF!" Klaus yelled, his features contorted into anger. _

_"__I-I can't- I can't do it-" Josef stuttered. "He-he's dead, he's dead-" the little boy's usually intelligent eyes were dulled with fear. _

_"__He's NOT DEAD you imbecile! He's unconscious from blood loss! He's going to BE DEAD if you don't get back out there!" Klaus's face was inches from his, his rank breath hot on Josef's face. _

_"__K-Klaus, please-" Josef started. _

_Klaus's answer was a snarl as he reared his arm back and slapped Josef so hard across the face that it knocked the boy to the ground. _

_Oh god, the pain._

_Josef's entire face was numb and he wasn't sure where he was for a moment._

_He was laying on the ground._

_How did he get there again? _

_"__Get back out there and finish the surgery or I swear I will gut you like a pig," Klaus said, his voice dangerously monotone. Little Josef only nodded as his lips were tingling and cold, the pain receptors in his face spasming from the force of the blow. _

_He returned to the dirty work._

Josef slowly, very slowly lifted his head, and there he was.

The monster that plagued his nightmares wasn't a dark entity with glowing red eyes and flashing white fangs.

It was a man so old and frail a breeze could have knocked him over.

Klaus stood, clutching a cane in his hand. His fingers which used to be so slender and flexible were gnarled with arthritis and he had a sour look on his face.

"You…" Josef choked out a single word. Klaus rolled his rheumy eyes.

"Don't look so excited to see me. Now come on, we have much work to do," he beckoned Josef with a jerk of his head.

Josef felt a horrible emotion inside of him that he hadn't felt in quite a long time. Dark, unpleasant, hot, squirming around inside of him like a live animal.

God, how he missed it.

"You…you're how they found me?" he shakily stood, not entirely trusting his legs to hold him upright.

"Yes, Josef. You're just as useless as I remember, what is this? Twenty questions?" the old man gave a short bark of laughter.

Burnell seemed to have sensed the shift in Josef and actually backed slightly away from the man.

Josef muttered something so low none of them could hear what he said.

"What? Speak up boy, have I not taught you better?" Klaus snapped.

"I said…" Josef drew in a breath, "_I'M GOING TO REMOVE YOUR SKELETON_!" he spat with such venom Klaus' eyes flickered briefly with fear. Josef flew across the room at an inhuman speed and had just managed to get his fingers around Klaus' throat before Ormand appeared in the doorway and delivered a kick to the side of Josef's temple that made the world droop oddly for a brief moment before everything went black.

**Coming up:**

The woman stood, her face hardened, a revolver held steadily in her hand, pointed straight between Josef's eyes. Perhaps she wasn't as dainty as she looked.


	9. Pauling

**Hey guys...are you still here after that last chapter? Let me preface this chapter with saying that it's my favorite out of this entire story. Also...you didn't think I was going to write about Medic working in a Nazi labor camp, did you? No, here's where paying attention to the dates and locations really comes in handy. *sigh* I also don't know if I should tell you that the next chapter is the last one. And if you've read The Mercs Take New York, you'll enjoy the references in this chapter and ESPECIALLY the next one. **

**Once again, your love and support means EVERYTHING to me. You guys rock.**

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**Arbeitsdorf, Germany:****1942**

_"__Doctor Schmerz?"__Kellen looked up from his work with one eyebrow raised. __His suspicious look faded into a crooked grin: his black, misaligned teeth sticking out from his curled lip. "Didn't expect to see you here," he looked down at the man he had been with and growled at him roughly. "Get up. We'll finish you later. We have a more…esteemed customer in our midst," _

_The man in the seat grumbled at Kellen but then dipped his head at Josef as he exited. Josef stood as rigidly as always, noting everything Kellen was doing with inhuman observation. _

_"__Well, take a seat, doctor," the man gestured to the chair with one of his bony arms. Kellen, for lack of a better word, _disgusted_the pristine doctor. He was incredibly thin, pale, pock-marked skin glowing in the bright light. His long, greasy black hair fell in his face as he glided around the small room, picking up small bottle and rearranging them in some sort of fashion. "What would you like?" Kellen asked, rolling up his sleeves to brandish his forearms. Every tattoo he knew how to do was there, some better than others. "Never expected to see you in here. You have a thing about body image, don't you?" the grin remained on his face, the smell of his rotten teeth making Josef a bit woozy. _

_"__Kasimir made me come here," Josef sneered. "He doubts my loyalties again," Josef confided this tidbit of information in the waifish man and his grin only grew. _

_"__Weren't you married to one?" his eyes, yellowed from sickness were boring into Josef hungrily. _

_"__She is dead," Josef answered, hiding the swell of emotion quite well behind a mask of indifference. _

_"__As she should be. Now, doctor, what would you like? I can give you something traditional, or experiment a little," Kellen pushed his forearms forward so Josef could better see the sloppily done ink. _

_"__Just…something small. You know how I am about body image," he added quickly. Kellen nodded. _

_"__I would say that I understand, doc," he chuckled "But look at me!" Josef nodded in agreement, turning his nose up at the other man's appearance. Kellen went to get necessary supplies and Josef took off his shirt, ready to welcome the pain. "Ready?" Kellen asked with the dripping needle poised. _

_"__Go for it," Josef turned his head away towards the window where a line of prisoners were being led. If Kellen was skinny, they were skeletal. Mere bones with a thin layer of skin stretched around them. A few of them looked at Josef through the window with their terrified, sunken eyes and cheeks so paper thin he could see their teeth. _

_Josef felt a slight pinch as Kellen began the tedious task and shifted his focus back to his arm so he could see his own blood mixed with the ink seep out of his skin._

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**?, America : 1960**

Verdammt.

He was awake.

The dream left a searing, phantom pain in his arm and he clutched it, half expecting to draw his hand away and see ink and blood smeared on his fingers.

Josef thought about closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. He wasn't sure what was scarier: his dreams or his real life. He did close his eyes and shift on the uncomfortable bed, but his bladder didn't allow him to lay there much longer.

Slowly, very slowly Josef dragged himself to the edge of the bed and swung his legs around, wincing at his cracking joints. He reached for a small jar beside his bed and swirled its contents slightly before opening the drawer and pulling out a syringe.

It was his last one.

Josef sighed and ran a hand over his wrists, horribly scarred from the countless needles he had injected himself with. He was going to stop any day now…at least, that's what he kept telling himself. He could barely get out of bed without a fix. He didn't even need a tourniquet, his skin had become so thin that he could see his veins pulsing beneath it. Josef inserted the needle into the jar and pulled out a generous dose of the medicine of his own creation and stabbed the needle into his wrist with no further hesitation. He didn't even feel it. He hadn't felt anything in a long time.

Josef felt the drugs take effect, washing over his troubled thoughts peacefully, ridding them from his mind. Why was he upset? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember much of anything anymore. He pursed his lips in idle thought as his brain tried to work through the muddiness like it always did. Josef laughed. He knew it was no use.

_Silly brain. You won't be able to remember anything!_

He had a wife…didn't he? She was pretty. But then he did something bad. Something terrible…

Josef squeezed his eyes shut and told his brain to stop. He couldn't do it with a straight face, however. He was still grinning like a fool.

At some point…he had a friend. A great, big fellow…

Josef laughed again, giggling until his throat was raw.

_He had been quite large, hadn't he? Like a bear!_

He had had a bear for a friend! How funny!

And as quickly as it had started, the medicine wore off. Josef groaned as he stood, pressing a hand painfully over his pounding heart. His body had grown used to the liquid over time, adapting so as to not send him into cardiac arrest. He still felt it thumping against his sternum, threatening to burst out of his chest. But now that his blood was flowing, Josef was able to woozily stand, gripping the wall for support. He knew he was going crazy from the drugs. He felt it each time his mind became too fuzzy to do the simplest of tasks, or when he walked in a room to do something and then completely forgot why he was there.

Josef shuffled into the bathroom, rubbing at the scruff on his jawline. Geez, when was the last time he shaved? In fact, when was the last time he showered? Josef looked over at the shower, dreading stepping into the hot water. Later. He would shower later. He still stood in front of the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink with both hands. His once very muscular frame had atrophied slightly, leaving him looking even older than he was.

He was an absolute wreck. A waste of a body and an impeccable mind.

He opened the cabinet and took out the old single-edged razor he kept in there. Not to shave himself, to perform a more gruesome task. Josef rubbed his hand over the faded tattoo which had become blue-ish with age. Far away it looked like a blob. Up close, it was a much more recognizable shape. Josef gritted his teeth and raised the blade to the top of the tattoo. He was going to cut it out. He was going to finally rid himself of this burden. Then he let out a breath and lowered the razor like he did every morning. Every morning he never had the nerve to do it.

Josef shuffled out of the bathroom, still a bit numb from the drugs. He figured it was probably a good thing. His run-down apartment was kept clean only because of the beliefs instilled in him at such a young age. No matter how bad things got, Josef's OCD made his hands twitch and he had to tidy up. Josef pondered the day's to-do list. Should he go out and find work? He did little odd-jobs here and there, but hardly anyone would take in a German even it was just for the day. He had tried to speak with an American accent numerous times, even practiced in front of the mirror. He just wasn't physically able to form his lips around a "W" or a "Th" sound. He always ended up more frustrated than he had been before.

A knock at the door broke him out of his thoughts.

Josef shuffled a bit awkwardly from where he was standing, praying to God it wasn't the bill collector again.

Another knock. It was short and quick and came in three precise bursts. Josef reflexively moved towards the door and opened it slightly. The sunlight that came flooding in almost made him shut the door again but there was indeed a person there.

A woman.

He cracked the door open wider, pushing his glasses up on his nose and bringing a hand to his face to shield it from the light.

The first thing he noticed was that the woman was very _small_. Petite might have been a better word. Her shiny black hair was pulled into a bun, and a simple purple frock clung to her thin frame. She had an angled face that was also soft with youth. Her large glasses were set atop a dainty nose and she was clutching a clipboard to her chest.

She certainly _looked_ like a bill collector.

"Doctor Schmerz? Doctor Josef Schmerz?" she questioned, her voice chipper with the consonants clipped on the end. Dear God, when had he last spoke English? When had he last spoken at all?

"Ja?" he said, his voice grating low in his throat making it sound like a growl. He hadn't meant to growl at this little lady, he just hadn't used his voice in quite a while.

"Pauling. Miss Pauling," she stuck out her hand. It struck Josef odd that she hadn't offered a first name, substituting 'miss' in place of it. He opened the door to its full extent and hesitantly shook her hand. The human contact made him want to shrink back into himself but he steeled through it. They stood in front of each other for a long, awkward moment with Miss Pauling still smiling and drumming her fingers on her clipboard. "May I come in?" she finally asked. Josef shifted his weight a bit.

"Uh…okay?" he phrased it as a question and stepped aside to allow the woman to enter. She strode in confidently and surveyed her surrounding briefly. Josef noted her intelligent eyes flickering over every inch of his apartment before turning back to him. She looked him over as well.

It was then, only under the scrutiny of this strangely intimidating woman did he realize he was a middle aged German man standing with his jaw slacked stupidly wearing nothing but his underwear and a stained wife-beater. Heat flooded his face.

"I-entschuldigung –" he made a slightly frustrated noise and shook his head as to clear it. "I am immodest. Please excuse me," he was horribly, _horribly _embarrassed to be in the presence of this stranger while he was so…off-putting. Josef hastily threw his threadbare bathrobe around himself and came back to find her sitting on the couch, her clipboard in her lap, waiting patiently for Josef to return. He sat across from her in a metal folding chair. "I'm sorry, do I know you? My mind isn't vhat it used to be," he forced a smile to his face, a cold feeling of dread in his stomach. What if this was someone he used to know and had forgotten her due to the drugs?

"No, you don't know me, but I know you," she flashed her own smile briefly. "You are the genius Doctor Josef Schmerz, born in Stuttgart and raised in its own orphanage after the people of Germany fell on rough times. There, you were under the mistreatment of a certain Doctor Klaus Austerlitz, who began your practice in medicine. You managed to avoid the Great War, attended the Medizinische Fakultät in Berlin, where you met your future wife: the beautiful yet sadly barren Madde Taube."

Madde. That had been his wife's name.

"You were then employed in a Nazi labor camp in Arbeitsdorf where you remained for many years before finally fleeing to America after the war ended. And now here you are, wasting intelligence uncontested in a crappy apartment," she punctuated the last word with another smile. The entire time she had been talking Josef had been slowly scooting towards the edge of his chair, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Who…who sent you? Who are you? Vhy have you come here?!" his voice rose as he did, out of the chair, looming over the small woman. It would be so easy to kill her. She was so small, so frail…

The clicking of the hammer of a gun being drawn back snapped him out of his dark thoughts.

The woman stood, her face hardened, a revolver held steadily in her hand, pointed straight between Josef's eyes. Perhaps she wasn't as dainty as she looked.

"Please, doctor. Neither of us wants your genius, if slightly crazed brain splattered all over the wall, do we?" Josef practically fell back into his seat and the gun followed him the entire way. "Good. I don't want to shoot you. I want to talk to you." She placed the gun on the center of the table, almost like challenge.

_Move a move, you sick Nazi. I dare you._

"Vhat vould you like to talk about?" Josef said calmly, folding his hands in his lap.

"A job offer," she simply said. Josef chuckled darkly and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at his salt-and-peppered sideburns.

"Last time I took a job offer from a stranger, zhings did not turn out so vell," the hidden meaning was understood by both parties.

She nodded slightly in understanding and unclipped something from her clipboard and slid it across the table. Josef scowled and opened the file.

His jaw dropped.

"You're paying…how much?" the words came out in a whisper and he didn't dare tear his eyes away from the figure. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen so many zeros in his life.

"There are some…things we need to discuss. You will be back in the war. In a very different war, mind you. We wish to hire you as our field medic, working alongside eight other mercenaries." Her mouth quirked up a bit in a smirk when she said the last word.

Mercenary.

Josef had been many things. An orphan, a husband, a Nazi…and now he was going to add mercenary to that list.

He could handle that.

Josef snapped the file shut and Miss Pauling opened her mouth to say something else, but her jaw faltered a bit.

"There's…another thing."

"Vhat?" Josef narrowed his eyes. There was always a catch, wasn't there?

"You'll be working on a team, as I mentioned before. A team of great…diversity," her gaze flickered just briefly to Josef's tattoo which was visible through the thin bathrobe. He felt his throat constrict and pulled the garment around him tighter as if to make himself smaller.

"Zat von't be a problem," he said quickly and Pauling nodded curtly.

"Then you, doctor Schmerz, are hired under the charge of Redmond Mann, owner of the Reliable Excavations and Demolitions company, in return of the discussed sum and full amnesty for past involvements," she said this with an air of finality, standing up, her clipboard at her side. Josef stood as well.

"Vhen do ve leave?" he said, looking around his apartment. He wouldn't have much to take with him.

"Right now." She said and he blinked, startled. "Take as long as you need to pack, but we're leaving as soon as you get through. Another thing, Josef…" the smile returned to her face. "No names. You'll be addressed by your title, on duty and off. A couple of your team members…well _one, _namely, requested this so as not to…'get attached' I believe he phrased it."

"So…vhat does zat mean?" Josef was slightly confused.

"Welcome aboard, Medic."

**Coming up:**

Medic was now positive this was some kind of elaborate prank.


	10. Medic

***shuffles awkwardly* Well guys, here we are. The end. Okay- I just- just need a minute. *hugs every single one of you* Thank you all for sticking with me through this fic it means SO MUCH. It took me FOREVER to get the ending right and I hope you like it as much as I do. I don't knew what else to say here...let me go dry my eyes...**

**Also: People who enjoyed The Mercs Take New York, YOU'LL LIKE THIS CHAPTER, I PROMISE. **

**I would like to thank my friend ThisNameIsStupid for existing and being my unofficial Beta Reader. I LOVE U ANA. **

**Anyway...here you go. **

**New Mexico, America: 1960**

"Medic?" Miss Pauling questioned quietly. "We're almost here," she put a hand on his thigh and shook gently.

"I'm not asleep," he turned his head towards her. "Just…thinking."

Josef- or rather, 'Medic' now, had taken his time getting ready. He showered first thing, letting the scalding water wash away layers of grime and sweat that had built up, then he shaved away the scruff he had accumulated, marveling at his face. He had even styled his hair the way he used to, twisting a thick piece in the front around his finger and letting it curl slightly. He tightened his jaw, set his brows low, and kept his shoulders back. He looked almost as majestic as he had in his youth. He didn't pack much; just grabbed a few things he had kept with him from the war. A few medical textbooks, his violin, a few letters addressed in a strange language, a wedding picture, his mother's worn Bible, and oddly enough: a large golden birdcage with nothing inside of it.

"I don't know how many of the men are already here, but I'm sure you'll be fine," Miss Pauling made a sharp right turn off of the main road and they trudged along in the sand for some time.

"Are you not coming in viz me?" Medic inquired, hating the way he sounded like a child afraid of his first day of school.

"No, Medic. You'll be fine. I would say that they don't bite…but I can't promise that," Medic waited for her to laugh or insist that she was joking but she didn't.

Just what had he gotten himself into?

"And we're here!" she beamed. The place looked basically like a cave with nothing but red sand and cactus for miles in each direction.

"Are you sure zhis is it?" Medic narrowed his eyes and stepped out of the vehicle, eyeing the strange location.

"It's much larger on the inside, trust me. Oh, look! Here's one of your teammates now!" She gave a slight wave in the opposite direction and Medic turned to follow her gaze.

Medic was not a tall man. He had accepted this fact long ago, aware of his broad, 5' 10" frame. This man, however, was significantly shorter than Medic and he walked with a slight bow-legged gait, but he had a wide grin on his face.

"Howdy, partner!" the man drawled in an accent Medic had never heard before. The man stuck out his hand and Medic took it hesitantly, wincing as his fingers were crushed by the hand that could have served as an American baseball glove. "I reckon you're the doctor? This little lady here told me all about you, and I'd like to say it's an honor to finally meet another man of science!" he seemed to be done with his welcoming committee act, and Medic glanced at Miss Pauling, at an utter loss. It had _sounded_ like the man was speaking English, but the words were so low and drawn out, dropping multiple consonants that Josef had understood about 40% of what he said.

"Zhis is not…ze English I learned," he said very carefully. The man gave a great laugh and slapped his knee as if Josef had said something gut-bustingly hilarious.

"You sure are a hoot an' a half, pal!" he gave Medic a good-natured shove that made the doctor tense even more than he already was. "Dell Co- ah mean…I'm the Engineer. You can call me Engie for short," he smiled through his blunder and Medic forced a tight smile to his face. "Well come on inside, there's a few men here already, and ya might as well meet 'em if we're gonna be workin' together for a few years,"

"Years?!" Medic turned around to face Miss Pauling but she was gone.

"Come on now, doc, we're burnin' daylight!" he motioned for Medic to come along and the sociable southerner talked the entire way to the base about some insane idea he had for a chip that could bring people back to life. Medic tuned him out, walking rigidly through the sand, thankful when they got on more stable ground. The first word that came to his mind when he entered was: _simple. _

A common room of sorts with a moth-eaten couch and a few chair crowded around a tiny television set, a dining room directly adjacent to it and a kitchen that connected. A long hallway ran down from the kitchen in what Medic could have only guessed were the living quarters.

"G'day, mate!" a voice spoke up from the depths of the kitchen and a man walked out with a lopsided smile on his face.

Medic was now positive this was some kind of elaborate prank.

This man _screamed_ "STEROTYPE!" in the way he stood, the way he looked, and the way he spoke. Medic had met a few Australians before; there had been one on the train car he had hijacked to get back to America. He talked a lot about the great land of "Oz" as he referred to it.

He was tall, very tall, but he wasn't buff and mustached like the Australians the man on the train had described. He was sort of built 'straight down', as his chest was as broad as his hips, and that wasn't saying much. He had broader shoulders than the rest of his body, and his tanned forearms were quite muscular and hairy, mind you. He was gangly, with awkwardly long limbs and thick, wavy, chesnut brown hair that had a few untamable cowlicks around his ears. His side burns were groomed very strangely; perhaps it was common in the land down under, though. He even _smelled _like a bushman, and Medic was at least five feet away from him. Sweat, dirt, coffee…and stale urine?

"Oi'm tha Snoipah," he stuck out a large hand that was so calloused you could have struck a match on it. Josef was suddenly aware of how feminine his fingers were and he shook it hesitantly.

"You're ze…Sniper?" Medic tried to translate the butchered English and he nodded.

"Snoipin's a good job, mate," Medic expected him to continue but he offered no more conversation.

"Right," Medic coughed to fill the silence.

"Well now that we're all acquainted and such, we might as well settle down. The little Miss said that most of the other men wouldn't arrive until tomorrow, but we should expect a couple tonight," Medic nodded curtly and Sniper's polite smile remained on his face. "Ah can show you to your workplace, iffin ya like, doc?" Engineer offered and Medic perked up a bit.

"Of course," he followed the short man down the hall, past the living quarters. He took a right turn at the end of the hall where two large, rusty, metal doors were.

"Welcome to the infirmary!" Engie pushed the door open with little effort and its hinges protested at the action. Medic strode in slowly, a million memories flooding back to him. He ran his hands over the metal operating table, feeling its cool surface. He deposited his luggage on a desk in the corner and hung the empty bird cage up on one of the machines. He didn't have time to reminisce long, though, before Sniper called out.

"Oi! There's another bloke here!" Engie's shockingly blue eyes lit up and he reeled out of the infirmary.

"Come meet him when ya get done, doc!" he called as he meandered down the hall.

There were various cranks and pulleys over the operating table, and it looked like something had once belonged there. _Strange. _Medic felt an itch inside of him. The itch to learn, to operate, to slice…but first he should meet another one of his team members, right? Medic gave the infirmary a glance that said 'I'll-be-back-soon' and walked into the hall, enjoying the way his shoes clapped on the wooden floor. Medic inched out of the shadows curiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stranger while the two other idiots were talking to him. His back was to him, and _goodness gracious, was he big._

Medic saw the wince hidden on Sniper's face as this man shook his hand but he hid it with a nervous laugh. The man turned his head slightly at the sound of the doctor's boots on the wooden floor.

"Hallo, I am ze Medic," Medic said before the man even got fully turned around.

_Verdammte scheiße._

Medic made a strangled noise as memories bolted through him like lightning, rooting him to the spot.

"Josef," Misha choked out, striding towards him a bit too quickly. They weren't supposed to use names, but rules be damned.

"Misha," Josef replied and then their bodies collided.

It was a silent hug.

Medic's tears soaked the front of Misha's shirt and he felt the Russian's impossibly strong arms around him, so safe, so reassuring, just like he remembered. The fuzziness of the drugs couldn't wipe away the memory of the little boy who had sworn he'd protect him. "I thought-I thought you vere dead- I thought-"

"Shh…" Misha shushed him and just hugged him closer. "Call me Heavy," he whispered in Medic's ear and he nodded against his friend's broad chest, balling up the back of his shirt in his fists, trying to bring them closer together. Medic knew in this moment that this was where he belonged; by Heavy's side, _in Heavy's arms._

"Ah geez! I knew stayin' wit a bunch of old guys in the desert would eventually turn into a fag-fest!" an incredibly loud, nasally voice shouted from the doorway. Medic immediately broke away from Heavy, heat flooding his face and turned his attention to the door, ready to assess the threat.

He almost burst out laughing.

_Almost._

The rude comment had come from a _child, _standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips and a smarmy grin on his face. He was about Medic's height, maybe slightly shorter. He strode in the room confidently, slinging his duffel bag down on the floor with a muffled *thunk*. His shirt was too big for him, and it was haphazardly shoved into his pants, a belt cinched around his bony waist. Upon further inspection, he had actually made his own holes in the leather, for it didn't run small enough to keep his pants up. He couldn't have been much older than sixteen. His cartoonish nose and endearingly crooked teeth only made him look that much younger, and his ears stuck out from beneath his baseball cap.

"Are you lost, son?" the Engineer stepped forward, wringing his wrists together.

"No, I ain't _lost_, gramps! I'm tha Scout! And I ain'tcha son, I'm almost twenty," he poked a finger into his birdlike chest as if his title meant something. "I'm tha fastest human on tha north side-a Boston! Go Sox?" he phrased the last remark like a question and when no one said anything he rolled his eyes with a greatly exaggerated groan. He furrowed his thin eyebrows and something mischevious sparked across his face. "So, whaddya we got here…midget Johnny Cash, Crocodile _dumb_-dee, a hairless bear, and gay Hitler! Sounds like a team to me!"

Medic's blood ran cold at the sheer _audacity_ of this boy. He broke away from Heavy, practically pushing the man off of him. Scout had bragged that he was the fastest human on the north side of Boston, but he wasn't nearly as fast as an enraged German. Medic lunged forward and grabbed the boy by his shirt collar and yanked him towards him so quickly his head snapped back.

"Jesus- ya tryin' ta give me whiplash? What's ya problem! HEY- LET GO A ME!" Scout flailed and shouted more obscenities at Medic until the doctor breathed hot breath in his face and felt a familiar anger bubble in him.

"I don't know who you zhink you _are, _boy, but I am ze resident doctor here und I know so many vays to kill a man I could write zem down for ze rest of my life and die still holding ze pencil. Make one more snide remark about any of zese men and I vill make it a personal goal to _end your life_." Medic punctuated the last part with another vigorous shake and the boy nodded, his eyes wide with fear. Medic dropped him like a sack of groceries and turned to face the men who were also staring at him in fear.

It was only when he met Heavy's confused gaze that his heart broke.

"I'll be in ze medical bay if anyvone needs me," he grumbled and stormed off to his workplace, with Heavy following.

"Josef, Josef wait!" Heavy tried to keep up with him. Medic whirled around, his nostrils flaring.

"Do not call me zat! I am no longer Josef. I am ze Medic." He glared at Heavy and the bear held up his hands in a gesture of innocence.

"What happened to you?" Heavy said quietly. It wasn't said in a judgmental fashion, but rather a genuine inquiry.

"Time. Time happened to me, Misha," Medic said and his voice cracked. Heavy bent down and Medic practically fell into his arms again, hugging him tightly.

"Time happened to all of us," he murmured, patting Medic's back reassuringly. Medic opened his eyes slightly as movement alerted him something was at the window of the medical bay. There was one window that allowed sunlight to stream in, and Medic saw the brief silhouette of a white dove peering in curiously at the two men.

*****EPILOUGE*****

**New Mexico, America: 1968**

"Holy crap," Scout was the first to break the silence and all the men around him nodded in agreement.

"Holy crap is right," Demo echoed, casting a glance at the bottle in his hand as if he wanted to drink it but he didn't raise it to his lips in fear of breaking the solemn mood that had settled on the shoulders of all the men.

The crackling of the campfire was the only other response. Medic was bent forward with his hands on his knees, the sharp lines of his face lit up ominously by the orange flames.

"And now here we are. I do not see any more to discuss," Spy sighed and stood, stretching out his sore muscles. In the extensive amount of time they'd been a team, this was the first bonfire Spy had ever attended, and it was just to hear Medic's story.

"Hey maybe next time we can hear _your _story, Spy!" Scout said, a grin on his face. The Frenchman actually smiled back and chuckled slightly.

"Non, I do not think that would be a wise idea. I'd have to kill you all," warmed by the fire and alcohol, Spy winked at the men and put his finger to his lips like a mother shushing a child.

"Besides," Demo started "We already know Spy's story!" Spy quirked up an eyebrow and so did Scout.

"Oh?" Spy's face darkened momentarily.

"He knocked up yer mum and she spit your sorry arse inta the world!" Demo roared with laughter and so did Sniper, laughing until tears ran down their faces. Everyone else laughed as well and Scout's face twisted in rage. The boy proceeded to begin yelling at the Scot that he was going to shove his liquor bottle so far down his throat Medic was going to have to cut it out of him. Demo and Sniper were yelling right back at him, Spy had disappeared, Pyro was playing in the sand, and Soldier had turned to ask Engie what 'knocked-up' meant.

"Was good that you told story. Chest feels lighter, da?" Heavy looked down at Medic who was sitting beside him and smiled. Medic nodded slightly. "You know…" Heavy started, looking up at the night sky, the stars plentiful and beautiful away from all the city lights.

"Yes?" Medic prompted him.

"Time…can do bad things to us. It can make us weary…burdened." Heavy looked over at Scout who had Sniper in a headlock, the bushman too slow to dislodge the boy from his back. "But time can also shape us into people we never knew we could be. Good people." Heavy shifted his gaze to Engie who had taken Sol's hand in his own and was gently answering his question in as few words as possible; the other man's jaw slacked as if he still didn't understand. "Loving people," Heavy added after watching the pair. "I think…time is not such a bad thing after all." Heavy finished, patting the doctor on the back.

"You know…for somevone who can barely speak English, you're pretty smart," Medic followed his friend's gaze up to the sky, the numerous stars glittering fiercely, as though to try and outshine one another.

Time had made those stars, after all.

If anything, Josef had to give it credit for those.

_Fin._


End file.
